


Desiderata

by KastleandCoffee



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Domestic-ish Kastle, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Frank also has feelings, Frank cooks for Karen, Karen and Frank rescue a stray pup, Karen has so many feelings, Kastle Christmas Secret Santa Gift Exchange, Kisses and snuggles, Light Smut, and I love her for it, idk what else to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13125663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KastleandCoffee/pseuds/KastleandCoffee
Summary: My gift for the Kastle Secret Santa to GoddamnitKastle on Tumblr! I had so so much fun writing this and I hope that you enjoy! Merry Kastle Christmas!





	Desiderata

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goddamnitkastlewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddamnitkastlewrites/gifts).



> Title is from the poem "Desiderata" by Max Ehrmann. This poem was my inspiration for the most part. It's a good poem if you wanna check it out.

She hasn’t seen Frank since the elevator, since that damned day when she stumbled home, bruised and bloodied and bone-Fucking-tired. She dreamt about him, about that moment, him looking at her like that, like his entire world was there in that elevator; her breath stuttering in her lungs, her leaning in, lips parted. His forehead against hers.

 

She got it. She really did. She wasn’t interested in stepping on Maria’s toes. On the kids' toes. She would never do something that Frank wasn’t 100% sure about doing. She wouldn’t make him choose between the two. Wouldn’t even let it get to that point. Maria, and the kids, they were as big a part of him as the white skull on his chest.

 

But then, Thanksgiving had passed by. She and Foggy had spent the evening in her new apartment, drinking beer and eating Chinese.

 

She absolutely did not cry as she laid in bed, completely and utterly alone. Did not imagine a different universe, one where she and Frank hosted their friends in their apartment. One where a stocky pitbull laid at Frank’s feet, eagerly gobbling up bits of turkey that he purposely dropped to the floor. One that ended with them, twined together in bed, making love and whispering sweet nothings, whispering that she’s thankful for him as she rides him hard and fast.

 

Another week passed.

 

She had heard the news of Rawlins, dead; Russo in the hospital. She spent that night, curled up in her bed, sobbing for Frank and for how he must’ve felt that his brother in arms hadn’t stopped his family from being executed; That someone that he so explicitly trusted, someone who had saved his life, and he had saved their life, had betrayed him for so long. She felt rage burning through her veins and for a moment, she wished Frank would’ve killed him. Wished she could kill him.

 

The injustice of it ate away at her.

 

 She still hasn’t heard from Frank.

 

Then, in the blink of an eye, it’s Christmas Eve.

 

She’s all alone in the office now, having told her co-workers to go home and enjoy their time with their kids. It only makes sense, she’s single, no family, no friends. Ellison just grunts at her, brews a new pot of coffee before he leaves with a soft “take care of yourself, kid.”

 

Karen’s sipping scotch in her office when the snow starts falling. Her mouth twists up in the facsimile of a smile. She used to love the first snowfall of the year, would wake Kevin up, bouncing on his bed and dragging him to the window to make him look.

 

A sharp rap against her office window jolts her out of the memory.

 

She draws her gun out from the top drawer of her desk and approaches the window. She startles when she recognizes the face staring in her window, and surprisingly, it’s mostly free of cuts and bruises.

 

Karen pushes open the window and blinks. “Frank?” She steadfastly ignores how her voice cracks on the syllable; she’s relieved when he does the same.

 

“Hey, figured you’d be here.” The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smirk, teasing at her history of being a notorious workaholic. He pulls the window shut after him and pulls his coat tighter around himself. Fixes her with a hard stare, looking through everything she puts out there, cuts through the bullshit and just _sees_ her.

 

“Yeah- well I felt bad. All my co-workers have kids, have families and friends that would miss them.” She doesn’t miss how his eyes soften at her admission. That she’s so utterly alone. Foggy is out with Marci and her family. Matt is dead. And Frank… is Frank.

 

She chews her lower lip, her eyes darting over to her belongings in her office. Her purse, her laptop, her half drunken glass of whiskey. She moves to pick up her stuff, shove her laptop and phone into her bag and downs the last of her whiskey. “Do you wanna go now?” She asks, fiddling with her purse strap and gnawing at her lip.

 

Frank nods, and he hovers by her side as she locks up. She turns off the lights in the office, locks the front doors to the Bulletin behind them and then they’re standing there on the sidewalk, getting snow stuck in their hair. As they walk back to her apartment, they talk about nothing at all, and everything. She mentions that she’s been lonely, been longing for a pet, something to share her apartment with. She mentions her sleepless nights and her worries about him.

 

They walk down 5th avenue and she’s swaying against him, just overtired and over-worked. As she unlocks her door, he’s firm against her, a steadying hand against the small of her back. Before she knows exactly what she’s doing, what the implications of her words are- she’s inviting him to her apartment for coffee.

 

Frank accepts, seemingly powerless against the siren call of caffeine.

 

She starts up the coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter and wrapping her arms around her middle, hugging herself tightly. “So…” she starts off awkwardly. “Looks like you made it out okay.” Karen skirts around the truth, skirts around the fact that she’s laid awake for whole nights, worrying about him, if he was alive, where he had drug himself off to so he could lick his wounds and heal.

 

“Yeah..” Frank murmurs shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It all turned out okay, Frank Castle is dead… but Pete Castiglione is here to stay. I got another free pass, I’m here to stay now.” He says it with such conviction she can’t help but believe him wholly.  He tells her all about the showdown at Central Park, about Billy, about how he saved Madani’s life and in turn, she gave him a new identity, a new life.

 

Karen nods slowly, turning this new information over in her head. “Good. I was worried.”

 

“You shouldn’t worry about me.” His voice is gruff, and he won’t meet her eyes.

 

There it is. Frank never thinks that he’s worth the worry, worth the trouble, but he’s the one damn good thing in her life, and he told her to find something good and to hold onto it with both hands and never let go. She doesn’t plan on it.

 

“Seriously, you deserve a normal life and you deserve everything good in the world, and that ain’t me ma’am.”

 

“I deserve the right to choose what I want for myself,” she hisses. “And what I want is for you to stop being so damn… damn bull-headed! I want you to be here, I want _you_!” She confesses, exasperated.

 

That makes his eyes rise to meet hers. She stares him down, unblinking and unwavering.

 

Frank thinks she woulda made a damn good drill sergeant.

 

“Karen…” Frank takes a deep breath, and if she didn’t know any better, she would think that he looks wary and scared. But Frank is always so sure of himself and laughs in the face of fear… except for when it comes to her. And his emotions. And especially both of those things at once.

 

“I want that too. And... I can have that now… we can have that now. But you gotta be sure. Because I ain’t gonna stop doing what I have to do. I’m still going to go out on the streets and clean up the scum and ain’t nothin’ gonna stop that.”

 

Karen crosses the length of the kitchen to put her hands on him, prevent him from leaving. She curls one hand around his bicep and cups his cheek with the other. “Frank, I know… Okay? I wouldn’t make you stop. I don’t _want_  you to stop.” She smiles gently at him and the way he nuzzles into her hand like a tired puppy. “I just want you to be here and not hiding out in a shack in the middle of nowhere,” she chuckles wearily. “Okay?”

 

Frank just nods, wraps his arms around her and holds her there against him. She smiles, nuzzling into his neck and breathing him in. “Just tell me you weren’t alone for Thanksgiving…” Karen murmurs, pulling back to look at him.

 

Frank mutters something unintelligible, rubbing the back of his neck, which is enough of an answer for someone who knows him as well as she does.

 

 “Okay, well you aren’t gonna spend Christmas alone,” Karen promises him, smiling widely. “I can’t have that weighing on my conscience.” She’s teasing him, and laughing in delight as he makes this face, one where his nose wrinkles up and he looks so incredulous. It's her new favorite look, she decides.

 

*

 

The day before New Year's Eve is a mess. It had been snowing the last few days, but it’s turning to slush on the streets now. She’s on her way home when she hears something yelping and crying. Karen turns around, looking for the source of the noise. She gasps when she sees a puppy, not looking much older than two weeks old, stuck and cold and helpless in the slushy grass across the street from her apartment. She rushes over to it, picks it up and dries it off in her scarf, hurriedly trying to dry it off by rubbing it vigorously. “Come on little one, let's get you out of this weather huh?” Karen hurries inside her building, taking the back elevators to her apartment on the third floor. She’s still cooing at the thing as she steps into her apartment, kicking the door closed behind her.

 

“Frank?” Karen calls out. He had been spending more time around in her apartment as of late. He has helped her out around the house and slept over, cooked for her sometimes. This seemed to be one of those times.

 

“In the kitchen!” He calls back, stirring what looks to be a pot of soup. He turns around to greet her, immediately noticing the bundle of her scarf in her arms and the little yelping noises. “What’s that?” He asked, coming to her side. She peels away the scarf, showing him the small grey and white puppy.

 

“I found her outside… I guess she got separated from her mama and left in the slush,” Karen murmurs. “She needs some puppy formula or something.. She must be starving.”

 

Frank nods, grabbing his jacket and pulling on his boots. “Just keep her warm and I’ll be back with some stuff for her, okay? Soup’s ready to eat.” He kisses her cheek in parting, grabbing his keys and locking the door behind him.

 

Karen sighs, resituating the puppy to rest against her skin, covering the small thing with a fleece blanket from her bed. She putters around the apartment, eating some soup from the pot as she stands at the kitchen counter, waiting anxiously for Frank to come back.

 

Frank comes in with his arms full of bags from the pet store. “I got some puppy formula, a special puppy bottle, some puppy sweaters, some puppy wet food, and then the lady at the store said that we should keep it against our skin to keep it warm,” Frank rambled on nervously, setting down all the supplies.

 

Karen couldn’t help but chuckle, of course, Frank had gone above and beyond for the little thing.

 

“Here, I’ll get the formula ready for her and then you can bottle feed her.” Frank mixed up the formula and warmed it up before handing Karen the bottle.

 

Karen makes her way to the couch and gets comfortable before swaddling the puppy. She introduces the nipple of the bottle to the small thing, chuckling some as it eagerly latches on and starts to eat. “Yeah sweet girl,” Karen coos. “I figured you’d be hungry. That’s okay, we’ve got you now… you’re safe.”

 

Frank crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the kitchen counter as he looks into the living room. She’s a natural at this. He must have a curious look on his face as Karen catches his eyes because she starts to explain.

 

“I grew up on some land in Vermont. We had goats, chickens, some cows, the whole shebang. One year, the old nanny goat wanted nothing to do with her babies, so it was my job to milk her, and then bottle feed the kids.” Karen bites her lip and smiles at the memory. “It was my favorite thing to do.”

 

Frank must look so doe-eyed right now, he thinks. He looks to the puppy, a white and grey little pitbull mix with a grey spot around one of its eyes, and hums thoughtfully. “What’re you gonna name her?” He asks, coming to sit on the couch by Karen.

 

Karen chews her lip, looks down at the puppy, whose mouth is now covered in milk, and shrugs. “I kind of like the name Maisie,” she admits, smiling at Frank.

 

Lord, she kills him with that gentle turn of her lips. He’s such a fucking goner.

 

“I think that’s a good name,” he admits, pressing his body against hers and scratching little Maisie behind her ears. Her tail starts wagging a mile a minute, and she starts suckling at the bottle double time, making Karen chuckle. “Apparently she does too.”

 

“Could you get me a bowl of soup?” Karen asks him, tilting her head to kill him with another one of her tender smiles, reserved just for him.

 

Frank nods, wretches himself away from her side, and goes to make them each a bowl of soup. He watches as Karen coos to the small puppy, _their small puppy,_ his mind corrects him smugly. Ever since Christmas Eve, ever since Christmas, which they spent together on her couch, watching 24 hours of The Christmas Story, and eating cookies made by Karen’s coworkers, they’ve been closer than close, he’s practically been living at her place when he’s not out working the nights. He still has a safe house that’s home base, but that’s for his arsenal and for cleaning up all the blood and wounds he’d gained that night before heading to Karen’s in the wee hours of the morning, that time between night and dawn where things are held in limbo. Things like their relationship.

 

“Frank?” Karen calls, looking over into the kitchen. Maisie has finished her bottle and Karen is snuggling the puppy into her chest, the blanket over them.

 

“Yeah? I’m coming.” He smiled, ladling soup into their bowls.

 

“Give me a minute, I need to potty her,” Karen smiles wryly, getting up and going to the bathroom with the puppy.

 

Frank looks longingly after her, bringing their bowls to the living room. He takes up his seat on the couch again, putting Karen’s bowl of soup on the coffee table. Frank had made his family’s Zuppa Toscana, one of his favorite winter soups, and after he had made it for Karen a few times, it became her favorite as well. He hears her move around in the bathroom, murmuring intelligible things to the puppy. He smiles to himself, starting to eat as Karen comes back into the living room, Maisie swaddled in a blanket, snoring away from her spot between them on the couch.

 

“Thanks for cooking,” Karen leans in to peck his cheek before taking her bowl of soup and digging in.

 

“It’s my pleasure. You’ve been workin’ a lot this week, an’ I figured it would be nice for you to come home to a hot meal,” Frank murmurs.

 

“Yeah, well I’m practically the only one at work without any family in New York… no travel plans, no kids… So I picked up some overtime. It’ll be nice. I’ll have a bigger paycheck, and my co-workers can spend the holidays with their families.”  Karen moans appreciatively around a spoonful of soup. “Frank, this soup is amazing,” She hums happily.

 

Frank is still mulling over her words. He understands the heartache of the holiday season. This time of year has been rough for him since his family was killed. The criminals of Hell’s Kitchen know to stay off the streets in the weeks leading up to Christmas now. But, this year isn’t so bad, here, with Karen.

 

“I ain’t worth takin’ off work for?” He teases, making a face at her.

 

Karen blinks at him sheepishly. “I would’ve if you had asked me to…” She explains. “You… you’re _different_.” She says lamely. “I mean, I thought you’d be working, and I thought that with your family… I wasn’t sure if you wanted to spend the holidays with me… and this time of year is rough and I didn’t want to intrude or anything…” She’s rambling now, and Frank finds it cute so he lets her stumble over what she’s trying to say for a little longer before interrupting her.

 

“Karen.” He smiles lovingly at her. This beautiful, sensitive woman with her bleeding heart and soft spots for frozen puppies and broken vigilantes. “This is the first year that I haven’t been all torn up ‘bout it. Sure, it still hurts, I don’t think it’ll ever stop hurting, you know? But spending time here, with you- It’s been good. You’ve made it good.” Frank sets his bowl down to reach for her hand, giving it a squeeze and smiling at her.

 

He takes a deep breath and says the words he’s been practicing in his head ever since he first saw her again after ninjas in New York, ever since Lewis threatening her, ever since Christmas Eve.

 

“I love you.”

 

He can see his reflection in Karen’s tear-filled eyes. She bites her lip and then a huge fuckin’ grin spreads out on her face.

 

“Frank…” Her voice trembles, her delight and disbelief almost tangible. “I… I love you too.” She puts her bowl aside and nearly knocks him over as she lunges in to hug him, her slim arms wrapping around his waist and her head tucked perfectly under his chin.

 

 

He can’t help but hug her a little tighter for that, kissing the top of her head.

 

Their soup lays forgotten for a while longer, as Karen presses against him, holds him tight, with Maisie between them. They lay in peaceful quiet, just listening to each other breathe, until Maisie snuffles noisily, pawing her way up to Frank’s face to stick her cold nose against his cheek, nipping at him and kneading at his beard.

 

“See, Maisie likes it,” Frank teases Karen.

 

She looks up at him, wrinkling her nose and pouting at him. He kisses the look off her face and received a nip to his lower lip for his troubles.

 

The kissing between them isn’t new. The soft touches, lingering glances, passionate kisses all going back to Christmas Eve. They’d spent the long night and early morning learning each other's bodies, each other's curves, and each other's moans.

 

But now, the weight behind each gesture and movement is new. Each touch is heavy with emotion, with a crushing weight in Karen’s chest. Each kiss feels like a silent confession, promises made for forever. She’s careful to bundle Maisie up in the blanket, setting her aside before crawling into Frank’s lap.

 

He looks up at her, with his heart in his throat, and with a hand around the back of her neck, pulls her down for a heated kiss. His other hand is firm against the swell of her ass, a casual claim, not demanding. He dips his fingers under the elastic of her leggings, tracing the lace that lines her panties. “Here? Yeah?” Frank rumbles, trailing his kisses down to her jawline and then to her neck, leaving a few hickeys behind.

 

“Yeah,” Karen pants breathlessly. Together, they push her leggings off her legs, revealing her lace thong. He smiles, putting his hand over hers when she moves to take that off too.

 

“Keep it on, yeah?” Frank smirks, putting his thumb to her clit and rubbing it in slow circles.

 

Karen bites her lower lip to stifle a moan and nods. “Yeah.” She ducks her head to kiss along his jaw, scraping her teeth alone the angle of it as she rubs at him through his jeans. She smiles at his cut off moans, kissing along his jugular and letting his stubble scratch at her. She manages to undo his button with one hand, unzipping his jeans and slipping her hand inside.

 

Frank lets out a loud moan as she grips him. Bites back a whine as her thumb sweeps across the head of his cock. Sings her praises as she fists him, brings him to full hardness.

 

Karen slides his pants down just enough to get his cock out fully, pulls her underwear to the side, and sinks down onto Frank slowly, a low moan bursting out of her throat.

 

“Mmmf, Fuck, baby…” Frank curses, his hands closing around her hips, painting bruises on her skin. She’ll cherish those tomorrow when she’s alone and missing him.

 

“Fuck,” Karen hisses as she starts moving, placing her hands on Frank’s chest for some leverage as she bounces on his cock, seeing what type of noises she can wrench from Frank. He’s usually so serious, but when she gets him like this, she likes to see his face relax, his mouth fall open on a moan, little noises bursting out of him. She bites her lips and grips him tighter as she works herself up and down, feeling herself stretch to accommodate him as she gets a quick rhythm settled.

 

She’s wet down to her inner thighs when Frank rolls them over and lets out a little squeak as he flips her onto her back. She wraps her legs around his hips and holds on as he finally lets go, hammering into her, chasing his release. She chants his name, reaching between them to rub her clit as he fucks her, moaning as she feels her release build up and peak.

 

She’s still clenching around his cock, tightening up so beautifully with a blissed-out look when Frank finally spills inside her. He rolls them onto their sides, kissing her neck softly as they both come down from their respective highs.

 

“Say it again.” Karen murmured, cupping his cheek in her hand.

 

“I love you.”

 

Karen smiles, leaning in to peck his lips. “I love you.”

 

*

 

They spend New Year's Eve on her couch, watching the countdown. Maisie is passed out, somehow sprawled across both of their laps, even though she's a tiny little thing.

 

Karen feels… happy. If this is how next year is going to be, then she thinks she can deal. She sipping a beer, watching Frank watch the performances. She’s gotten both her Christmas wishes this year; a dog and Frank home with her.

 

She doesn’t think that tonight can get any better. The two of them are sitting pressed together; Frank doesn’t have any visible bruises; Karen has the next two days off of work.

 

The final countdown begins and Karen picks up Maisie to move closer to Frank, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

 

“Frank…?” Karen calls.

 

“Yeah, sweetheart?”  
  
“I’m really excited for this next year. I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna be good.”

 

As Ryan Seacrest starts counting down from 10, she turns to Frank, looking up at him with a sweet smile.

 

“Me too,” Frank murmurs, running his fingers through her hair to cup the back of her head. “I’ve got you, huh? So, it’s gotta be good.”  
  
Karen leans up to kiss him deeply as Seacrest announces the new year, humming happily into his mouth.

 

“Happy New Year, sweetheart.” Frank rumbles.

 

This year is off to a great start.


End file.
